Aspiration
by Mystery of the Emblem
Summary: On a full moon, a young boy sneaks from one of the many orphanages in Daein. He's on a quest to find a spirit and make a deal.


**I want to say a thank you for the support of this one. I had wanted to write of Pelleas's time in his childhood, in the orphanage, as we know very little, but a conversation about magic has me fixated on his Spirit Charmer status.**

 **Since we don't know exactly how they work, I'm taking my liberties here. I don't know if my idea has been done before, it's just the idea I have had of the spirits that are willing to make a deal.**

* * *

A full moon rose over the streets of Daein. It shone brightly in windows of taverns, where men flirted with the bar maids, fought amongst themselves, or simply relaxed and played at dice. Horses whinnied impatiently in the streets, waiting for their owners to return.

The moonlight shone brightly through windows, almost making it look like daytime. One of those windows happened to be a boys' bedroom in one of the overcrowded orphanages. In the corner by the window on a lumpy straw mattress lay three boys, two of which were asleep. The third, older than the other two by a couple of years, was wide awake, though it was not due to moonlight.

The third boy could feel the butterflies in his stomach as he decided that tonight was the night. He slipped out from under the arm of one of his few friends in the orphanage, rolled off the mattress and onto all fours. Perhaps standing, with the bright moonlight casting his shadow, would have been a bad decision, so he crawled along the floor, dodging limbs and stirring up dirt. At the door, he peered out. The adults in charge were no doubt asleep themselves, or downstairs drinking and enjoying a hearty meal.

He glanced back to the mattress he shared, then made up his mind. He slipped out the door and hoped he would be back before morning.

In the hall, he heard nothing but the snores of sleeping children. He waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sudden dimness, then he hurried as quickly and quietly as he could down the hall. Which door was it she had mentioned? As he was trying to remember, something brushed against his leg. He let out a muffled cry, then he had to laugh at himself.

"Calm down, Pelleas, it's just a cat."

It meowed and swished its tail, which hit his leg. As he bent to pet it, the cat darted off.

He passed two doors on the left, then opened the third. It was used as a storeroom. Furniture was covered with cloth or mountains of dust. But he was in the right place. The lock on the window was broken. He could get out that way.

At the window, he felt his first real feeling of fear. What if Solana had sneaked out that night as well? If she caught him in the streets, she would bring him back by force if she had to. He could not freeze. With a deft hand, he pulled at the window. It slid down soundlessly. He looked out and saw a narrow ledge. He was not as sure footed as he would like to be, and what an interesting thing that would be, to have people find his corpse in the garden.

 _'Get a hold of yourself!'_

He took a deep breath, inhaling the night air, and put one foot on the ledge. Once he was fully out the window, Pelleas realized it was not as bad as he thought. Getting to the tree was going to be more of a challenge. He reached out and took hold of a branch. It _felt_ sturdy, but would it hold him?

He jumped, hanging onto the branch as he did. For a moment, he dangled over nothing, but Pelleas was able to swing his leg over the branch and pull himself closer to the tree. As his heart thudded wildly, he waited to see if anyone was going to find him sneaking out. It was then he came to the conclusion that when you tried to do things unnoticed, every noise was like a shriek. He took a moment to calm himself before climbing slowly and carefully down the tree.

At the bottom, he lost his balance and fell. Now that he was free of the orphanage, well he would be once he cleared the fence, he was starting to feel bold. He wiped his hands on his pants and hurried to the far gate. It opened with a squeak, but he pushed it aside and hurried down the street.

Pelleas tried to look casual, like he had _not_ just broken out of the orphanage where he was supposed to be staying, all the while thinking that his black rags would have worked much better on a moonless night. No one took notice.

As he walked, his mind began to wander. He knew what he was looking for, but how exactly would he find it? The book he had read pointed him towards the forest, and that was where he would go. But how much time could he spare? He did not know.

The streets of Daein were new to him, and yet, thanks in part to Solana, he felt as though he knew them. There was an alley with a broken fence that she had mentioned, but going her known paths was scary to him. Solana had been half friend, half protector to him for most of his time in the orphanage. As the other boys, both older and younger than him, picked or him and tormented him, sometimes to the point of physical violence, Solana had started to step in. She could not stand to see someone picked on, especially someone smaller than her.

She had been his first, and only, friend for a very long time, until the twins Fallon and Holden had arrived. They were younger and smaller than him, and he was the only boy that did not antagonize them, so they latched onto him. The three spent the nights together on the same mattress in the corner, hoping not to draw the attention of the older boys who liked to pick fights in their room, as Solana was not there to defend them.

Though she had started off taller than them, as the years past, each boy grew taller than her. She took it in stride, saying her shorter height allowed her to sneak out. Pelleas had never taken her seriously until one morning when she had changed his outlook.

She had come to him one morning as they worked the garden and thrust a book at him. "I know you've read every book here at least three times and so I thought you would want something new."

The books left there for them were children's stories, a half rotten history account, and two religious texts. There had not been a big selection, though he had been bored enough to read them to the point he knew most by heart.

"Where did you get this?" he had whispered. The book looked old, its cover faded, but the pages were intact. She had merely smiled, winked, and returned to picking radishes. He had regretted asking. He did not have to to know it was stolen. The book had been left under the mattress for days as he agonized about it. But finally his curiosity got the better of him, and he cracked it open. It had been about magic.

Magic was something that had truly interested him. The ability to control spells seemed like a power more strong than swinging a sword or picking up a bow. Anyone could do that. But not everyone could do magic. And he had felt, deep down inside, so deep he would never admit it was there, that if he had known magic, the bigger, stronger boys would not pick on him.

He had longed to look through a tome, and though this book itself was not one, it was more than good enough. He engrossed himself in it. As the others slept, he would read it by moonlight. Near the back of the book, in the last few chapters, he had found a term that stayed with him. _Spirit Charmer_. It was someone who allowed a spirit access to their body in return for powerful magic.

He spent many sleepless nights, and some hot afternoons, daydreaming of finding a spirit. He had to be fully willing, and he was. Or so he thought. It was not until one night, as several other boys shoved him around the kitchen for taking too long in washing the dishes and keeping them in the kitchen, that he made up his mind.

Yes, he would allow a spirit inside his body.

It was not just the idea of being left alone that fueled him. He had been inspired to take care of others as well. He would do just about anything to keep people from being treated as he had. He was a timid person, but perhaps with magic could come the strength to stand up for himself.

Pelleas gave his head a little shake to clear it and realized he had carried himself to the outskirts of the city. No one had stopped him or noticed him! He felt a little tingle of giddiness. He had gotten away with sneaking out. But the difficult part was still ahead. He had a spirit to find.

He stepped into the woods. It was darker there, though the moon filtered through the branches. As he walked, he looked for landmarks. He could not afford to get lost in the woods.

Minutes passed. Surely it had to be minutes. If it had been hours, he would know. The moon would be setting. He heard the hoot of an owl and something scurry under the brush. Other than the nocturnal animals, he was completely alone.

As he traveled, he tried to continue on in a straight path. That was challenging as he went deeper into the trees. He paused in a thicket and looked around. Had he gotten himself lost? He could see nothing, not even moonlight.

He spun in a circle, certain he had lost himself. Then something caught his eye. In the darkness, he could make out a light. Sadly, he hung his head. Perhaps he had become so lost he was beyond getting himself out of the forest. It had to be some hunter, or even a bandit. But maybe whoever it was would help him get out. He would take his punishment for escaping without a word.

Pelleas started towards the light. To his surprise, it looked like it moved further away from him.

"Hey!" he called. He immediately wished he had not, as he had no idea who the light belonged to. It looked like it had stopped. He picked up speed, stumbling over branches and roots as he went.

He was right, it _was_ moving. He could see that now, and it was not amusing. Was someone out here playing a trick on him? One of the other boys, perhaps?

Whoever, or whatever, it was stopped again. Panting, Pelleas stopped as well. The light had gone out, but it had led him to a cabin. If one could even call it that. Any dwelling had four walls and a roof. This one had two walls still standing and only half the roof remained.

Goosebumps rose on his arms. He held himself and rubbed his hands up and down his arms as something inside the cabin stood out to him. There was a table under the remaining section of roof. An unlit candle sat in a holder. Otherwise, it was bare. No leaf or dust rested on the surface.

He was drawn to it. As he stepped past one of the fallen walls, the candle lit itself. The air became heavier. _You seek something, don't you?_

He gasped and looked around, but there was no one there. Perhaps no one around for _miles._

"Yes," he said, his voice little more than a squeak.

There was a chuckle. _What do you seek?_

"I - I think you know. I want to make a pact with a spirit." All of a sudden, he felt stupid. The voice knew this because it _belonged_ to a spirit.

 _Do you? Are you_ sure _that is what you want?_

"Yes!" he said again, his voice louder this time. But it was no more confident than the first time he had spoken.

 _Why?_

Pelleas found himself panting. His chest felt tight. It almost felt like the spirit was wrapping itself around him. "I want to learn magic," he whispered. "I want to be able to protect others and not just rely on someone to protect me."

 _And...?_

"And..." Pelleas balled his hands into fists. "And if I can defend myself, maybe those bullies will leave me alone."

There was another disembodied laugh. He recoiled as a cool sensation caressed his cheek. Was it toying with him?

 _You're a timid boy. Magic won't give you confidence. You've got to build that inner strength up yourself. I could make you the strongest mage in the world, but would that matter if you can't even speak to others?_

Pelleas was silent for a moment. He nodded, "Yes... wouldn't it be a start?" He wanted several moments but received no answer. Hot tears of anger welled in his eyes. "I've come all this way!" he shouted. "Please, I - I truly want this..."

 _Once you do this, you can't take it back._

"I understand."

 _You're so young... and so willing to throw everything away..._

"Stop trying to change my mind!" This time Pelleas's voice was more strong and forceful. With one last laugh, the spirit engulfed him. He let out a cry, his chest _burned..._ Had it all been a trick to lure him to this lonely place? His vision swam and he hit the floor.

He awoke to a tightness in his chest. For a moment, he could not remember where he was. Then everything flooded back to him. Whatever had happened, the spirit didn't kill him. He trembled slightly as he raised himself in a sitting position. Sweat dripped from his hair into his face. When he went to wipe it away, he realized his palms were bloody. When he had balled his hands into fists, his nails had dug in and broke the skin. He wiped them on his pants and looked around.

The first thing he wondered was how long he had been out. The moon was high above him, and it was full. Unless he had been unconscious for a month, it had not been long. With a sigh, he wondered if it had all been for nothing. His legs shook a little as he stood. He gripped the table to keep his balance and noticed two things.

The first was the candle had been knocked over and had gone out. The second was the table was no longer empty. On it, by the fallen candle, sat a book. Its cover was dark purple. There were words on it that he could not fully read, but he still felt like he understood it.

 _Take it._

He did not bother to look around that time. The voice came from within himself. He took the book and noticed it looked brand new. There was a strange sensation in his hand as he caressed the cover. Dark purple tendrils reached out and surrounded his fingers. With a smile, he raised his hand. A dark purple aura shot from his fingers and knocked the debris from the fallen walls deep within the woods.

He let out a surprised little laugh. He could do it! He could do magic! He held the book close to his chest. He had wanted to read it then and there, but the rational part of him knew he had to return to the orphanage. How it would be to just walk in the front door and defy their caretakers!

But he knew he could not. Surely no one could confront him. He knew magic, and no one in charge had any combat training. But he did not do this to rule the orphanage. Or to become a bully in his own right. He just wanted to take care of those who needed it, and to protect himself.

With a sigh, he looked back at the table for a final time. Then, his tome clutched tightly to his chest, he stepped back into the trees. The journey home would be simple. He felt as though an invisible hand was guiding him. He found himself hoping that luck would be on his side, and he could get back to bed with no one having known he was gone. He could feel it as he slid among the trunks and branches. His life was going to become much more _interesting._


End file.
